Total Eclipse of the Heart

Or, How Zesty Brought It, Smacked Its Ass and Sent It Home Cryin' to Its Mama.

So Bronte, the writer at my office, decided that some New Year's team building was in order. Thus she promptly arranged a Karaoke night at the Gladstone Hotel. This hotel has recently undergone a renovation and has thankfully been caught up in Toronto's newfound tendency to restore beautiful buildings instead of trashing them for some uninspired condos. The Gladstone is one of those back-in-the-day hotels, which from a Toronto historian's perspective, would be about 1850 - 1900. It had a train station right beside it, and during its zenith, was "the nice hotel on the outskirts of town". In it's time, it was the equivalent of how today, you'll stay at the Marriott by at Lester B. Pearson airport and cab it into town to save some money.

I used to work by the airport and I wonder if that Marriott ever changed its completely heinous lobby decor? I remember it had that crappy green and pink Asian look that just went so horribly horribly wrong in the 1980's.

But to Karaoke. Now I've always enjoyed singing, and I've always been good at it. I get this from my father, who was always singing when I was growing up. Usually it was a soccer song, but hey, perfect pitch is perfect pitch. Who am I to deny a red blooded Scot the pleasure of the odd field anthem?

Trouble with me is that when it comes to singing, I've also always struggled with my confidence. I finally got it together in high school and managed to get a lead in my school's production of Cabaret. I of course, was not Sally Bowles, but Frauline Schneider. I always sing, everywhere I go, and a few years ago started studying opera, but I haven't been in about three years due to financial constraints. Hmmm. Eat or sing an aria? I know what I'm picking, and unfortunately for my artistic soul, it's taters.

Two years ago, I participated in a recital. It was the first time I had been on stage in about 10 years, and it was somewhat of a disaster as I had a chest infection and couldn't really breathe normally. But the Marine, Ragdoll and my teacher were there for moral support, and somehow I made it through.

Birth to the present and I must admit that I was feeling somewhat reluctant, but at the same time energized at the prospect of singing again. I try to make myself go out and do work events, because it's a nice way to get to know your co-workers as people. If singing happened to be part of the deal this time, so be it.

But what to sing? Well, that's where Chaka Khan came in. I've listened to her version of I'm Every Woman at least once every day for as long as I can remember, and although not an easy vocal exercise, I know it cold. [Trust me to be more worried messing up the song than being able to actually sing it. But to me, it was all about intention, and when Ashford and Simpson give a song like this to the world, you should at least do them the courtesy of knowing what word comes when.]

Ahem.

So we had a fun dinner and then headed down to Karaoke at the Gladstone. Once Bronte sorted out some nonsense with our seats [we were way in the boonies] we started signing up. It was at this point that I realized I was actually a bit more nervous than I expected to be, so I ordered a gin and tonic. That honestly, helped a little bit and I stuck with club soda afterwards to lubricate my instrument. [Dear Lord. Did I actually just write that? You know, I think I did!]

I turned the pages of the song book. Perhaps Chaka wouldn't be there I thought. Perhaps I could just do something silly like Like A Virgin. But no, there she was. Waiting.

So I filled in my card and it was only as I was handing it to the MC that I realized my hand was shaking. But it was too late to turn back. In the meantime my boss, a 43 year old Karaoke virgin, got up and did Fulsom Prison blues. He really just went for it, and that made me relax.

In fact, as cheesy as it sounds, music really does make people bond. Once people saw others just getting up there and going for it whether they could sing or not and all liquid courage aside for a moment, the whole tone of the place changed.

Plus, it was really funny seeing some straight laced business dude perform Tone Loc's Wild Thing. Imagine the most game show voice you can and then say internally "Posse in affect, and I'm looking for affection."

Hilarious.

And there's always those old Karaoke stand bys that you can always count on: the irreverent intellectual who does "I Like Big Butts" and the others who do over the top versions of Summertime and My Way. And then there's the duets: Love Shack; Summer Nights; I Got You Babe.

Digi and I were also visually stalked by the obligatory "mumuring intense stare old dude" that I think is now retrofitted into every bar.

So there I was enjoying things, when my name was called. I was caught quite off guard but just said to myself, oh well. Too late now.

Now, I would be remiss in neglecting to note that it was when faced with the prospect of Karaoke that my risk management skills came fully to the fore. I had thankfully thought to also load on my PC Whitney Houston's version of this song, because she does an intro. [As an aside for a moment, in Chaka's version, you'll hear Whitney and her mother doing the background vocals. Whitney was a teenager at the time.] Sure enough the intro was there in the Karaoke version so thank God I knew it.

Usually I get prissy stuff to sing. You know "Three Little Maids From School" songs. I was a little out of my element, but I think deep down inside, as corn ball as it sounds, I just needed to prove to myself I could do this song. I was either going to stay depressed about not having an artistic career, or I could look at this as a first step back on to the path. I just figured that my confidence was only going to get better if I took any opportunity to sing.

I didn't realize until that moment, how much I had subconsciously invested in singing. Because seriously. If Karaoke's gonna faze you, you have no business in show business.

So the intro started and I just....sang. And this sound was coming out. And I was doing the harmony just like in Whitney's version. And out of the corner of my eye, I could see the jaws of my co-workers collectively dropping.

As the soon as the song really started to kick, the Chakaness of it all overtook me and I DEMANDED that every woman get on the dance floor. And you know what? THEY DID! There were like 30 woman all boogieing right in front of me. There was this insane posse of people in for a woman's 40th birthday party leading the charge.

So I sang my heart out. I make no claims to originality on this one. I flagrantly stole all of Chaka's riffs. But c'mon. Since when can you improve on perfection?

As the song closed, I had the whole place singing and dancing. I felt 10 feet tall.

Now Marty from one of our Toronto offices ended up making some video. [no I'm not posting it here. No I'm not sending it to you either.] So I guess it'll be one of those things where it won't be as good as it seemed at the time. But I felt like I broke a curse Friday night. I was on a high for a good couple of days, as if I had tapped into some long forgotten resevoir in myself.

And I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I'm going to find other opportunities to sing, and see where it takes me.

Hey, my boss has proclaimed himself President of my fan club. I must have something going for me.